Читать книгу One Tiny Miracle... - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 8

BEN didn’t worry.

He was concerned for his patients at times, but he didn’t do worrying.

The worst day of his life had happened a long time ago and he knew things could never be that bad again, so consequently he just got on with things, didn’t fret or dwell—or, well, worry!

He hadn’t in years.

Yet there was this niggle now and, no matter how he tried to ignore it, still it persisted.

His second day at Bay View Hospital and the floodgates had opened.

One drowning had been brought in as well as victims of a multiple pile-up on the beach road. It was over forty degrees and people were collapsing everywhere. It was just one of those days where everyone ran to keep up and everyone worked up to and beyond their limits.

Including Celeste.

He could see her ankles swelling as the shift progressed, see her blow out of her mouth and onto her red face as she stripped yet another trolley and prepared it for the endless list of recipients, could see the effort in her movements, and then finally the sheer relief on her face at 3:30 p.m. when her shift ended. As he watched her waddle out, like it or not, Ben was worried.

‘What are you doing tonight?’ Belinda was tapping away on the computer. In her late thirties, and absolutely stunning, she was also witty. With a tumble of black hair, she had almond-shaped brown eyes, full red lips, and dressed like she’d stepped out of a magazine. Thankfully, very thankfully, Ben didn’t fancy her a jot, which meant there was no trouble sharing a tiny office and they could chat easily about things—which they did as Ben wound up his day and packed up his briefcase. It was only his second day and already paperwork was starting to pile up.

‘I’m stopping in at the real-estate agent’s, then the deli to buy salad and chicken instead of a burger and then…’ Ben thought about it ‘…I will make myself go for a jog this evening. What about you?’

‘I’ll show you…’ She gave a wicked smile. ‘Come here.’

Curious, Ben walked over and looked at the screen and stared at the image of a rather ordinary-looking guy.

‘A GP, late thirties, has children but doesn’t want to involve them yet…’

‘Sorry?’ Ben had no idea what she was going on about.

“That’s good,’ Belinda said. ‘The last one I saw brought his children along on the second date! We’ve chatted on the phone,’ Belinda explained to a bemused Ben, ‘and he seems great—we’re meeting for coffee tonight.’

‘You’re going on a date with him?’

‘Coffee.’ Belinda laughed. ‘You should try it—you’d be a hit!’

Ben shook his head. ‘Internet dating isn’t for me.’

‘Don’t knock it till you try it.’

‘Be careful.’ Ben frowned. ‘Shouldn’t you go with someone when you meet him? He could be anyone!’

‘He’s who he says is.’ Belinda winked. ‘I’ve checked his registration.’

‘Well, good luck.’

The real-estate agent was being nice to him again—there had been a little bit of initial sulking when Ben hadn’t bought the apartment, but he’d obviously got over it and he was Ben’s new best friend again now that he had a genuine prospective client for the house.

‘Can I have a look around?’ Ben asked.

‘Not till the “open for inspection” at the weekend,’ the agent said. ‘After that, I can arrange a private inspection for you.’

‘I’m actually working this weekend,’ Ben said, ‘so don’t worry about it.’

‘You will come and have a look, though?’ the agent said anxiously.

‘Like I said…’ Ben shrugged ‘…I’m working—but it’s really no problem. I’m actually going to look at another house tonight.’

That soon got him on the phone! A private inspection was arranged within the hour and Ben wandered through the house he was seriously thinking of calling home. It did need a lot of work—the kitchen was a bomb and the downstairs bathroom would need to be ripped out, but the master bedroom had already been renovated, with floor-to-ceiling windows that took in the bay view and a fantastic en suite that did the same.

Yes, it was way too big for one, but it just felt right.

He could renovate it, Ben thought, take his time, pull out the kitchen, do up the back garden…Standing in the master bedroom, staring out at the bay, Ben felt the first breeze of contentment he had in years, the first, the very first glimmer of how finally coming home should feel.

Despite his nonchalance with the agent, despite the shake of his head when he found out the reserve price and that the vendor wanted a quick settlement, he was just playing the necessary game. For Ben, the auction couldn’t come soon enough.

A wall of heat hit him as Ben opened the door to his unit. He opened the windows, turned on a fan and put his dinner in the fridge then peeled off his clothes and hoped that the shower ran cold this evening—which thankfully it did.

After showering, he pulled on some shorts and nothing else, then headed for the kitchen. Suddenly, out of the blue, there was this sort of long groan as everything ground to a halt.

It had been happening all over Melbourne—the power outages every evening as the lucky people who had air-conditioning selfishly cranked it up to full. Ben just had a fan—which now, of course, wasn’t working.

He went outside to check the power box, just in case it was only him, and glancing down the row of units he saw Celeste checking her power box too.

She was in lilac shorts this time, and a black singlet. Her hair was wet and she looked thoroughly fed up.

‘Again!’ She rolled her eyes, gave him a brief wave and headed back into what would surely soon be a furnace—unlike his unit, Celeste’s got the full questionable glory of the afternoon sun.

And that was when that niggle hit him again—an unfamiliar, long-forgotten feeling that gnawed at his stomach as he pulled open the dark fridge and pulled out the plastic containers he had got from the deli—a strange niggle of worry for someone else.

Ben didn’t want neighbours who dropped in on him and he had certainly never thought he’d be a neighbour who did just that—but there he was on her doorstep. She had come to the door holding a bowl of cereal and was clearly irritated at the intrusion but trying to be polite.

‘The electricity should come back on in a couple of hours—it’s been happening a lot lately,’ Celeste said, and went to close the door. She wasn’t actually irritated with him and didn’t mean to be rude, she was just trying not to notice he was wearing only shorts. Which was normal, of course, in the middle of a heat wave. Had he knocked just two minutes later, she’d have had to put her top back on herself before answering the door!

The sight of all his exposed skin made her own turn pink, though, and she didn’t want him to notice!

‘Have you had dinner?’ he said to the closing door, and she paused, glancing guiltily down at the bowl of cereal—which was probably not the best dinner for a heavily pregnant woman and she was instantly on the defensive. ‘I can hardly cook with no electricity.’

‘No need to—I’ve got plenty.’ He held up the dishes to tempt her. ‘Let’s go and eat on the beach—it will be cooler there.’

It was. There was a lovely southerly breeze sweeping in and Celeste walked in the shallows. Ben could practically hear the sizzle as her hot, swollen, red ankles hit the water.

‘I should have come down earlier.’ Celeste sighed in relief. ‘I keep meaning to, I mean, I’m so glad I did when I get here…’

‘I’m the same.’ Ben smiled, and it was so nice after such a busy day to just walk and say not much, to watch the dogs and the boats and the couples—to just be.

And then to sit.

Chicken in tarragon and mayonnaise, with a crisp Greek salad, was certainly nicer than cereal, and washed down with fresh fruit salad, it was bordering on the healthiest dinner of her pregnancy. The baby gave an appreciative kick as she sank down onto her back.

‘That was yum—thank you!’

‘You’re welcome.’ Ben gave a small uncomfortable swallow. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I dismissed you a bit at work.’

‘You didn’t.’ Celeste frowned.

‘I did,’ Ben said, ‘or rather I didn’t let on that we’d already met.’

‘That’s okay.’

‘I just like to keep work separate…’

‘That’s fine,’ Celeste said. ‘This evening never happened.’ She turned and smiled at him where he still sat. ‘How are you enjoying your new job?’

‘It’s good.’ Ben nodded.

‘You were in Sydney before?’ Celeste checked because she’d heard Meg say so.

‘Yes.’ Ben didn’t elaborate. ‘How long have you worked there?’

She didn’t reply for a moment as she was busy settling herself back on the sand, closing her eyes in sheer pleasure. ‘Nearly three months.’ One eye peeked open. ‘I don’t think they were particularly thrilled when I turned up for my first shift.’

Thankfully he wasn’t so politically correct that he pretended to have no idea what she was talking about. Instead, he just grinned and Celeste closed that eye and finally, finally, finally she relaxed.

‘God, this feels nice,’ she sighed after five minutes of lovely comfortable silence.

And it also looked nice, Ben thought, it looked very nice indeed. Her lashes were fanning her cheeks, her knees were up, and her stomach was sort of wriggling of its own accord—like Jennifer’s had, Ben thought, and then abruptly stopped that thought process.

‘So there is no Mr Mitchell?’ he asked.

‘Nope.’ Her eyes were still closed.

‘Do you see him at all, the father of your baby?’

‘Nope.’

‘Does he know?’ Ben asked, even though it was none of his business. ‘I mean, is he helping you out?’

‘He thought he was,’ Celeste said. ‘He gave me money to have an abortion.’

‘Oh.’ Ben stared down at her.

‘I was on my maternity rotation at the time I found out I was pregnant, babies everywhere—not that it made me want one, it terrified me actually, but…’

‘You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to.’

But she did want to—lying there with her eyes closed, lost and lonely and really, really confused. Maybe, as everyone said it would, talking might help clear her head. It was worth a try, anyway, because yoga certainly hadn’t worked!

‘He’s married.’ She opened her eyes then and closed them—and even in that teeny space of time she saw it pass over his features. That moment where you were judged, where opinions were cast, where assumptions were made. ‘I didn’t know that he was, not that that changes anything.’

‘Did you go out for long?’ he wanted to know.

‘Three months.’ Celeste sniffed. ‘He was my first real…I just believed him. I mean, I knew why we didn’t go out much, and why we couldn’t go to each other’s homes…’

‘Sorry?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she muttered.

‘So where did you go out?’

‘For drives, for dinner, to a hotel sometimes…’ She gazed up into his clear green eyes. ‘He’s a bit older than me, quite a bit older actually,’ Celeste said, and then she was silent for a while.

Rightly or wrongly, he did judge—he tried not to, but he did.

Why didn’t people think? Why were people so careless?

And now there was this baby…

He closed his eyes and thought of Jennifer—of the plans they had put in place, how much they had wanted a baby, and though he didn’t say a word, she could feel his disapproval.

‘So you’ve never made a mistake?’ she said defensively.

‘I’ve made plenty,’ he admitted.

‘But no affairs, nothing you regret.’

‘Oh, there’s a lot that I regret,’ Ben said.

‘You’re single, divorced…?’ It sounded like the questionnaire on Belinda’s dating site, and he winced inwardly.

‘Widowed,’ he said, and it was her turn to judge, Ben knew—he had been through it many times before.

‘Do you miss her a lot?’ she asked gently.

‘Yep,’ Ben admitted, and that was enough. He ran some sand through his hands, concentrated on the little grains instead of himself then glanced at his watch. ‘The power must be back on by now.’

‘So what if it is?’ Celeste smiled. ‘I’m enjoying talking—you were saying how much you miss her?’

God, she was persistent. Really, he should stand up and leave, but she’d said so much about herself and, picking up another handful of sand, he let it run through his closed fist, and admitted some of his truth. ‘I miss it for Jennifer too.’ Her silence was patient. ‘She loved living.’ He looked out to the water and could almost see her, blonde ponytail flying as she jogged. ‘She’d be out there running or swimming now—cramming some exercise in after work.’

‘Was she fit?’

‘Very.’ Ben nodded, but there was this savage rip of thought there because, despite doing everything right, despite her healthy lifestyle, it hadn’t counted for anything in the end.

‘What did she do?’

‘She was a doctor as well—in Emergency.’

‘What happened?’ Celeste asked, but Ben shook his head, not willing to go there. ‘Come on.’ It really was time to go now, and not just because he didn’t want to talk about it. He was doing her a favour. A woman in Celeste’s condition really didn’t need to hear about how Jen had died. So he held her hands and heaved her up and they walked back slowly, idly chatting about not very much at all, till Celeste wormed her way back in again.

‘Have you dated again—I mean since…?’

‘She died three, nearly four years ago,’ Ben said, answering the unspoken question.

‘Oh.’

‘A bit.’ He gave a shrug. ‘Though it was probably too soon.’

‘Are you still comparing them to her?’ Celeste asked, boldly striding in where no one else really dared to go, but Ben just ignored her question and, glad of the diversion, opened the gates to the units, but Celeste stood patiently waiting.

‘Are you?’ she asked.

‘Sorry?’

‘Comparing them?’

She was a persistent little thing, like a little woodpecker, peck, peck pecking away—

‘I used to,’ Ben admitted. ‘But not now—that’s not fair on anyone.’

‘Especially as she sounds like Superwoman,’ Celeste grumbled, and her response was so refreshing Ben actually smiled. ‘So,’ she pushed, ‘are you ready now?’

‘Perhaps, though not anything serious.’

‘Ooh, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of takers.’ Celeste grinned. After all, she’d heard the giggles and gossip in the staffroom—Ben could take his pick!

‘What about you?’ They were sitting on her steps now, the conversation, and the friendship, too new, too fragile to snap it by asking him in. And anyway the power was still off, so they sat on the steps and got to know each other just a little bit better.

‘I’m hardly in a position to date.’ Celeste rolled her eyes. ‘Can you imagine me out clubbing?’

‘I guess not!’

‘And I’m still in that “all men are snakes” place.’

‘It’s probably a very wise place to be right now,’ Ben agreed. ‘I’ve been a bit of a snake myself lately.’

‘Do tell!’ She did make him laugh, she was so eager for gossip, and so easy to talk to, that somehow he did.

‘I went out with someone for a while—she was great, but even though I told her from the start—’

‘She didn’t listen?’ she finished for him.

‘She did at first, said she wanted the same thing—then, well, it got a bit more serious. She started to hint at wanting different things.’ He looked into her smiling amber eyes. ‘Like moving in.’

‘Not for you?’ she said wisely.

‘Maybe one day, but she also started talking about children. And one thing I do know is that I don’t want kids.’

‘Never?’

‘Never,’ he said emphatically.